


Love Like Fire, the Taste of Skin

by anodyneer



Category: White Collar
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Shots, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tequila, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3200945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anodyneer/pseuds/anodyneer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Timestamp for <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1536686">Before You Left Me, You Were Free</a>. This fic explains what happened immediately before the epilogue of that fic. So, body shots and sex. It's helpful, but not totally necessary, to have read the other fic first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Like Fire, the Taste of Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kanarek13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanarek13/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for the awesome and generous [kanarek13](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanarek13/pseuds/Kanarek13) \- Happy Birthday! In a comment on Before You Left Me, she'd hinted about wanting a timestamp for the sex that happened before the epilogue. Not going to lie, this is PWP with bonus tequila. There was enough plot in the original fic to make up for the lack of it here. ;) Title from "Eden's Gate" by Pat Green.

The sound of Peter’s key rattling in the door brought a smile to Neal’s face. Since there was no one there to see it, he allowed a shiver of anticipation to run through his body. He’d been looking forward to this day ever since that night in a hotel room in a rural Pennsylvania college town, when he’d heard the story of how a young and drunk Peter Burke had asked to do body shots off the sculpted abs of one of his Quantico classmates – one who happened to be very straight. Neal had later volunteered to let Peter do body shots off his abs instead, and though Peter had taken it as a joke, Neal had meant every word.

They’d been back from Pennsylvania for a little over two weeks. The first week had been a blur of interviews, paperwork, and the full compliment of bureaucratic bullshit that Neal certainly hadn’t missed during his two-and-a-half years away from the FBI. He’d barely had time to breathe, let alone talk to his boss. Or to Elizabeth Burke. 

But all of that had changed by the second week. He’d gone back to work at Pierpoint, and by Wednesday, he’d taken the plunge and made an appointment to talk with his boss, Sandy Pierpoint, at the end of the week about stepping down from his position as director of security and taking on a role as an independent security consultant instead. Sandy had accepted his offer without hesitation, saying he’d figured that Neal wouldn’t be able to tolerate a desk job forever.

Neal had also finally spoken to Elizabeth Burke about his developing relationship with Peter. He’d known that they had her blessing, but he still felt like he needed to talk to her about it in person – and without Peter present. Over coffee and cronuts, he’d cleared everything with her and promised to be open with her about whatever went on between him and her husband. And she’d made it a point to mention that what went on between the two men in Philly certainly hadn’t had a negative effect on what she shared with Peter. If anything, it almost sounded like she’d been implying that the opposite was true.

By late Friday afternoon, both conversations had been taken care of, both had gone well, and Neal was in a damn good mood. And he wasn’t the only one. Peter had called him at lunch to tell him they’d closed the insurance fraud case they’d been working since before the trip to Philadelphia. He’d decided to call it an early weekend, so he sent the rest of the team home and, at El’s urging, was on his way to Neal’s apartment. 

Neal could tell by the tone of his voice that Peter was hopped up on satisfaction and testosterone, and that he’d likely be in a celebratory mood. Which, with Peter, usually meant sex of some sort. He’d only been in a sexual relationship with the man for a couple of weeks, but Neal had known long before that.

He’d seen it in the way Peter strutted around after a successful case, something darker smoldering behind the triumphant look in his eyes. He’d seen it in the way Elizabeth, no matter how well put together she was, sometimes couldn’t totally hide the fucked out look when Neal stopped by the next morning. There were times when, to his embarrassment, he’d found himself wondering if she had stubble burn on her breasts, on the insides of her thighs. And maybe he’d wished it was him instead, or both of them, who felt satisfyingly stretched after Peter had his way with them.

So as soon as he’d hung up the phone, Neal had gotten ready. He’d taken a quick shower and, in a fit of eager hopefulness, had even slicked himself, forcing himself not to get carried away at the feel of his own slim fingers probing where no one had been in far too long. He’d spread out a fluffy towel on the bed, just in case Peter decided to forgo the shot glass and drink straight from Neal’s abs. Which, of course, made him hard at the very thought of it.

Once he’d placed the necessities on the nightstand beside the bed – a bottle of Don Eduardo Silver, a shot glass, a salt shaker, a bowl of lime slices, lube, and a strip of condoms since he was already being a blatant optimist – he stretched out on top of the towel, completely nude. 

Knowing it wouldn’t be long until Peter arrived, he gave his erection a few lazy strokes, thinking back to the night he’d heard the story about Peter hitting on Brian Marcoux. That had also been the night that Peter had told him he’d been with other guys but had never full-on fucked any of them, and the night they first got off with each other. Spontaneous frotting with their lounge pants on, watching Peter come first, then later, Peter cleaning him up and kneeling in front of him, biting and sucking at the insides of Neal’s thighs.

He was pulled from his reverie by Peter’s key – Neal had given him one as soon as they got back from Philly – in the door. As soon as the other man walked in, even without being able to see him, Neal could tell that he’d been right about Peter’s emotional state. There was something in Peter’s stride, in the way he called Neal’s name, that left no doubt he was turned on.

“Back here, Peter,” Neal called from the bed, on the other side of the room dividers he used to separate his sleeping area from the rest of the studio apartment. 

“You’re in bed?” There was curiosity in Peter’s statement, but it was almost drowned out by the underlying lust. He appeared at the side of one of the dividers, his jacket and tie already missing, and his eyebrows shot up at seeing Neal sprawled out on the bed in his birthday suit.

“Is that a bad thing?” Neal teased, his fingers resting lightly at the base of his cock. He’d seen the beginnings of a bulge in Peter’s pants even before the man laid eyes on him, and it made his whole body tighten deliciously to think that Peter was already getting hard in the elevator on the way up. He could picture his lover standing there, angled away from the camera, left hand holding his suit jacket at waist level, right hand shoved into his pocket, toying with his dick through the thin fabric.

“Oh.” Peter’s hungry eyes slid over Neal’s body, then glanced at the collection of items on the nightstand before coming back to Neal’s face.

“Thought you might want to celebrate,” Neal said, voice rough and soft.

“Jesus, Neal,” Peter breathed, never taking his eyes off Neal even as he kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt. In less than a minute, he was down to his undershirt and tented-out boxers, but then he seemed to lose patience with undressing and climbed up on the roomy bed beside Neal.

“You in the mood for some body shots?” Without waiting for an answer, Neal reached up to hook a finger in the neck of Peter’s white tee and pulled him down for a kiss. Peter moaned into his mouth, and Neal’s tongue took advantage, slipping in to dance with Peter’s. He wrapped a hand around the back of Peter’s neck and held him there, though Peter didn’t seem to be in any hurry to end the kiss.

It was Neal, in fact, who finally broke it off so they could catch their breath. Peter’s eyes, the brown nearly hidden by his pupils, fixed on him with such longing that Neal almost decided to skip the body shots and beg Peter to fuck him, right then and there. And he was certain there would be no objection from the man who was making his federal presence known by rubbing his erection against Neal’s thigh.

“Peter?”

“Hmm?” Peter sat back on his heels and stripped off his t-shirt.

“You look thirsty.” Neal winked at him, and the icebreaker worked. Peter got the reference and let out a long breath, his lips curving up into a smile that was equal parts relieved and wolfish. He laid one hand flat on Neal’s abs, and Neal sighed as the heat worked its way into his belly.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Peter nodded toward the nightstand.

Neal wrapped his fingers around Peter’s hand and moved it lower, until they bumped into his straining cock. “There’s your answer.” 

Peter stretched his fingers and drifted them over Neal’s erection, feathery light touches that made Neal tremble, made his mouth drop open in a helpless little gasp. Oh, but he was so far gone already. He only hoped he could last long enough for both of them to enjoy it.

With one last tease down over Neal’s tight balls, Peter pulled his hand free and uncorked the bottle of tequila, then put it back on the nightstand within easy reach and grabbed the salt shaker. Neal pulled a lime slice from the bowl and held it between his teeth, ignoring the faint bitterness of the pith. He looked up to find Peter hovering over him, hunger warring with an undeniable love on his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” Peter whispered, and Neal felt a flame of affection ignite inside him. It was something he adored about Peter, that ability to never let the lust completely drown out the love. Peter was good, damn good, at the sexual side of things, but even in the midst of those carnal moments, he didn’t let Neal forget that he was treasured. “I don’t…even know where to start.”

Before Neal had a chance to pull the lime from his mouth and offer some suggestions, Peter leaned over and tongued one of Neal’s nipples, bringing it to hardness. He laved all around it, and Neal moaned, pushing away the urge to writhe under his lover’s mouth. Peter backed away long enough to sprinkle the salt all around Neal’s nipple, then in one fluid motion, sponged it up with his tongue and grabbed the tequila. Forgoing the shot glass altogether, Peter simply tipped it back and slugged it straight from the bottle. He swallowed with a wince, then leaned up to lick the lime juice from Neal’s lips before sucking the slice of fruit from his mouth.

The part of Neal’s brain that could still think coherently was a little startled by how smooth the whole thing was. Peter pulled the lime from his mouth and dropped it on the nightstand. He grabbed another from the bowl and gave Neal a quick kiss, tongue darting into the younger man’s open mouth before backing away and replacing it with the lime.

The whole process was repeated with Neal’s other nipple, then with the hollow of his neck – that one made Neal throw his head back and let out a long moan. He was sure he must be getting more out of this than Peter was, but when he was finally able to look back down at the older man, he could see that Peter was still fully hard. His cock had worked its way out of the opening in his boxers and was standing proudly, poking Peter in the stomach every time he bent to bring his mouth back to Neal’s damp body.

Peter’s tongue sponged a trail across Neal’s waist, just above his pubic hair, pausing to give the head of his dick a quick suck. Neal’s back arched and he let out a desperate whine, digging his fingers into the towel to keep from pulling at Peter’s hair. Peter sprinkled the salt over Neal’s wet, sensitive skin, and this time poured the tequila into the crease between his abs. He sucked up the salt and liquid in one easy move and traced a line up over the younger man’s chest to his mouth, where he sucked briefly at the lime slice.

After doing the same another time, Peter stretched up over Neal’s body and kissed him, long and passionate and spicy. Neal tried to keep up, but he was already breathless from the sensations warring for his attention – the chill of the liquor, the heat of Peter’s skilled tongue, the scratch of salt on his skin and the sting of alcohol on his lips, every nerve ending pushed to its limit. Neal wasn’t sure how it was possible that he hadn’t come yet, but it wasn’t for lack of arousal. He was just on the right side of painfully hard, his cock twitching with every touch of Peter’s cunning mouth on his body.

Peter seemed to notice that he was struggling and pulled away, wrapping an arm under Neal’s shoulders and bringing him in to lean against that broad chest, the object of many of Neal’s fantasies over the years. 

“Take it easy for a minute,” Peter murmured against his temple. “Just breathe.” And Neal did exactly that, trying to slow his panting respirations. As he did, he let his tingling fingers roam over Peter’s stomach and down to the waistband of his boxers. 

“You should take these off.” Neal pulled at the fabric, then ran his fingers down Peter’s still-erect cock. “They aren’t…doing anything for this anyway.” A shiver ran through Peter’s body at the contact, and Neal grinned. Now that his head was a little less swimmy, he reached around Peter, grabbed the bottle of tequila, and tipped it back against his own lips, swallowing probably more than he should have. It seemed to impress Peter, though, who chuckled and put just enough space between them to slip out of his boxers before returning to Neal’s side.

After Neal took a second drink and then a third, Peter wrapped his fingers around Neal’s on the neck of the bottle. “You want to do those off of me instead?”

Neal put down the bottle and sucked on a slice of lime, shaking his head. Before Peter had a chance to get disappointed, though, the younger man got rid of the lime and gave him a lecherous grin. “I’d rather you fuck me instead.” Peter’s jaw dropped, and Neal took the opportunity to lean in and suck on the other man’s pretty upper lip, pulling off with a little nip when Peter moaned. “If you’re up for it.”

“You – you’re serious?” Peter’s hand drifted down to give his own dick a hasty tug, though Neal wasn’t sure he was even aware he was doing it. Peter, always so much more copious with the precome than Neal, had been leaking for a while. The head of his cock was slick and shiny, and Neal wanted to spread his legs and beg Peter to rub it against his hole. But he remembered that, even though Peter was unexpectedly skilled in some areas, he’d never gone that far with a man before. The thought settled Neal just a bit, and he nodded slowly, reaching around Peter to grab the strip of condoms.

“I’m very serious.” He dropped the condoms back on the table. “But only if you’re ready for that.”

Peter stared at him, longing written all over his face. There was no doubt that he wanted it, that he was ready. It wasn’t the alcohol or the heat of the moment. It was years of desire – and not being able to act on it until recently – culminating in this very minute, in Neal’s question, in Peter’s answer.

“God, yes,” Peter rasped, chest rising and falling rapidly. There was absolutely no doubt in his wide eyes, in the way his tongue darted out to lick his lower lip, in the tightness of his cock against his belly. “Please.”

Neal didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed Peter, chasing his tongue for a moment before pulling away and laying back on the bed. He wasn’t sure how much guidance Peter might need, but if past experience was any clue, the older man would be surprisingly adept.

As Neal slipped a pillow under his lower back, he glanced up at Peter, only to find his lover watching him with that same perfect fondness he’d seen earlier. Warmth spread through Neal’s chest, then spilled over to course through the rest of his body, and he smiled back at Peter. He bent his knees, spread them wide, and nodded down at himself. It was all the invitation Peter needed.

Peter got settled between Neal’s legs and paused, seeming to be content for a moment just to drink in the sight of Neal stretched out in front of him. And then before Neal completely realized it was happening, Peter folded himself over and took the younger man’s cock into his mouth.

Neal gasped in shocked arousal as those lips wrapped around his erection, hot and wet. He wanted to say something, to warn Peter that he wouldn’t last long if this continued, but he could only exhale his lover’s name.

Peter seemed to understand, though. He tongued the head of Neal’s cock one last time before pulling off and turning his gaze up to Neal’s face. And if he looked at Elizabeth like that, Neal had no idea how she managed to keep from dropping her panties and begging Peter to fuck her on every available surface. There was something devastatingly carnal in those heavy-lidded eyes. They burned deep into Neal’s soul, arousing him like nothing else.

A couple of fingertips, not quite tentative but not altogether confident, skated over Neal’s balls, pausing to caress them for a moment before slipping around behind them. Peter’s eyes widened as he finally felt the slickness around Neal’s hole, and Neal somehow managed to give him a smug smile.

“Neal…?”

“Yeah.” Neal gave him what he hoped was a reassuring look, though he knew it was a little soft around the edges from the alcohol and the lust. “You’ll still need to…” He made a little motion with his fingers that he hoped would give Peter enough of a hint. 

Peter actually blushed, deep red around his neck as usual. “I – I know. How it works. I just – god, Neal.” He turned his face away and brushed his lips over the inside of Neal’s knee, seeming to need a minute to settle himself. When he finally looked back up, the confidence had returned, amping up the sexy smolder in Peter’s eyes. “Okay?” Neal nodded, and one of those fingers rubbed gently over the ring of muscle, waiting until Neal exhaled and relaxed enough to let it slip inside.

And oh, but Peter hadn’t been lying. He may have never fucked a man’s ass before, but he’d definitely done his share of exploring – maybe with Elizabeth, or maybe experimenting on himself. That last thought made Neal’s cock twitch and forced a low moan from his lips. Peter’s free hand moved to rest low on Neal’s belly, rubbing, soothing. His eyes met Neal’s with an unspoken question, and when Neal’s eyes answered, Peter eased a second finger inside.

The whole thing was overwhelming. Not just another man’s fingers inside him, stretching him, teasing his prostate, but the fact that it was _Peter_. Neal wanted more, wanted it all, and wanted it soon, but he breathed through the urge to fuck himself on Peter’s fingers and bit back a plea to go faster.

This time, Peter didn’t look for permission before working a third finger inside, stroking his thumb over Neal’s balls. He paused, letting Neal adjust, before pushing in deeper. And Neal needed to warn him that he didn’t think he could last much longer, that he could come just from this alone. But all that would come out was something that started out as ‘fuck, Peter’ and morphed into ‘fuck me, Peter, _please_ ,’ in a breathless whisper that made his lover smile.

Finally, finally, those fingers pulled out, and Neal almost wanted to chase them until he remembered what it meant. God, it had been so long since he’d had a man inside him. So long since he’d started wanting that with Peter, dreaming about it, but thinking it would never happen. And yet it was.

He peered down between his legs at Peter, who wiped his fingers on the towel before reaching for a condom. Those same skilled fingers trembled for just a second or two as they tore open the foil packet, but by the time he rolled the condom over his leaking cock, Peter was back in control again, nearly as steady as ever. He even gave the inside of Neal’s thigh a cocky little nip as he coated his erection with lube, once again wiping his fingers on the towel before pushing himself up over the younger man. Neal pulled his knees up and lifted his hips, a welcome, a plea, and Peter reached down to guide himself to Neal’s entrance. He paused, let Neal take a breath, and then slowly pushed just the head of his cock into his lover.

For as incredible as it was, Neal still had to remind himself not to tense. He wanted this, coveted it, but it had been so long, and his body needed a moment to adjust to this change. Peter, of course, seemed to understand and waited, holding himself still to give Neal the time he needed. When Neal finally nodded, Peter gave him a little more, then even more, letting Neal relax into the stretch each time.

It wasn’t until Peter was balls-deep that Neal noticed he wasn’t the only one who was overwhelmed. A tremor ran through Peter’s entire body, and he dropped his chin to his chest. Neal skated his fingers up Peter’s arm.

“You okay?”

For just a second, Neal almost expected Peter to smirk at him with his patented ‘are you fucking kidding me’ look, but instead, when the older man’s eyes drifted up to meet his, they were filled with something unexpected – a deep and open affection. He was looking at Neal as if Neal was giving him a priceless gift, a treasure. 

“Yeah,” Peter finally answered, voice still rough with arousal, a sharper edge working its way back into his gaze. “God, yes.” The self-assurance that Neal found so sexy took over again, and Peter started moving inside him, pulling most of the way out before driving back in again. Though he wasn’t tentative, Peter seemed to be experimenting, looking for just the right pace and angle, eyes fixed on Neal’s face.

As they started to settle into a rhythm, Neal canted his hips up just a little more, and that did it. With the new angle, Peter began to hit Neal’s prostate with every stroke, jolting Neal to his core over and over. A little cry escaped his lips, and he grasped at Peter’s arms on either side of him, needing to anchor himself. 

“Right there,” he gasped. “Yeah, Peter.” He let himself get lost in the sensations, lost in Peter’s half-lidded eyes and the little grunts escaping his parted lips, and he was startled by just how good it felt, especially for Peter’s first time.

Neal’s whole body sang with pleasure, so much better than anything he’d ever felt before. His thoughts, his emotions, everything centered around Peter, inside him and above him, warm and safe, lust and love. The other man’s face was red, his breathing ragged, sweat running down his chest, and yet he looked indescribably beautiful to Neal. 

Peter shifted most of his weight to his left arm, his thrusts going jerky as his right hand reached between them to wrap around Neal’s cock. Thanks to the treatment his prostate was getting, Neal was leaking precome, and Peter had the presence of mind to spread it around with his thumb as he started to stroke Neal’s aching erection.

Neal probably could have come from the fucking alone, untouched, but this latest development only added to the pleasure. He was so close, and he could tell Peter was as well. His lover’s hips started to jerk into him even faster, frantic enthusiasm erasing any sense of rhythm, fist tugging at Neal’s cock.

It only took a few more strokes for Neal’s orgasm to overtake him. His muscles tensed as he came, his body arching under Peter’s, the force of it pulling a choked cry from deep inside him. He could feel the warmth spilling out of him, onto his chest, his stomach, Peter’s fingers. As he panted through it, he heard Peter let out a long groan. With one last deep thrust, his lover went rigid over him and gasped his way through his own orgasm.

Neal lost track of time for a moment, drifting, reveling in the fact that this had finally happened after so many years of wanting, hoping, settling. When he came back to himself, it was because Peter had shifted again, resting a little more of his weight on Neal’s body. The older man lifted his right hand to his lips and flashed a quick smile at Neal, then licked his trembling fingers clean, one by one. Before Neal could even react, before his mind could even reconcile what he’d just seen, Peter’s damp fingers dipped into the come on Neal’s belly before once again returning to his mouth. He did it a third time, and Neal thought his brain was going to short circuit, staggered by such a primal sight.

Finally, Peter pulled out, his softening cock slipping from Neal’s exhausted body. As Neal watched, his mind still playing catch-up, Peter removed the condom and tied it off before tossing it into the waste can beside the bed. He pushed himself back up over Neal, supporting his weight on both arms once again, and gave the younger man a sweet kiss. Though it didn’t go on for long, it was enough for Neal to taste himself, and he shivered.

“God, Neal,” Peter breathed as he moved out from between Neal’s legs. “That was…”

“Fucking incredible.” It was all Neal could manage at the moment, but it seemed to suit Peter, who flashed a weary smile.

“Yeah, that.” Peter slid up to lay beside Neal on the bed, and Neal rolled over to press himself against Peter’s side, resting a hand on the older man’s sweaty chest. Peter’s next words were spoken so softly that Neal almost didn’t catch them. “Thank you for this. I can’t even…” He trailed off and sighed.

“Shh.” Neal’s fingers scratched lightly at Peter’s chest. “And thank _you_.”

There was more that he wanted to say, and beyond that, more that they’d need to discuss later. But in that moment, as they tried to come back to themselves, the only thing that mattered was that they were both sated, happy, and in love.

***


End file.
